Wednesday, February 15, 1911: I heard from two of the persons to whom I sent comic valentines. I don’t think they suspected me in the least. We had final examinations in Physical Geography. I think I will make a good mark. I got a ride home from school this evening. It was with such a cute boy. (I didn’t know him though.) He asked me, “would I accept a ride”, and I certainly did. We talked chiefly about the weather and the snow. The name of his horse was Grace for that was what he called her.

Comic Vinegar Valentine, circa 1911

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

I found several comic valentines—sometimes called vinegar valentines—at flea markets and on Ebay. None included a message–each just contained the recipient’s name and address.

On a different topic related to this post–I was very surprised that someone Grandma didn’t know would be on the road between McEwensville and the Muffly farm–and that she would accept a ride from this stranger. Even in the ‘good old days’ I wouldn’t have thought that this would have been considered a safe thing to do in rural Pennsylvania–but apparently there was so little crime that it wasn’t a concern.

Tuesday, February 14, 1911. I guess that a good many people know that the fourteenth of February is St. Valentine’s day. I expected at least one beautiful valentine, but like some fools I was disappointed, but I didn’t get any ugly ones either. I don’t think I would have felt very much honored to be the recipient of one, but I was not the receiver of any. I however, was the sender of four horrid ones. I also sent some pretty ones too.

St. Valentine’s day is here once more

To pierce some tender heart to the core

But if Dan Cupid with you can’t make a hit.

He’ll turn over and to some easier one flit.

Vinegar valentine, circa 1911Pretty valentine, circa 1911

Pretty valentine when folded

Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:

A hundred years ago Valentine cards weren’t like the cards that we have now. Ethel Spencer, in her memoir about growing up in Pittsburgh, described the valentines that were sent in the early part of the 20th century:

The valentines of our youth were far more interesting than the present-day variety. Most of them were pretty, and many of them did unexpected things when one opened them: a fan of bright-colored paper appeared; a cupid rose up to great us; a bunch of flowers popped out of a box. There were some ugly valentines too, notably paper broadsides with vulgar pictures and rhymes on them that though obtainable at Fatty Schwarz’s little store on Ellsworth Avenue, were forbidden to us.

Ethel Spencer in The Spencers of Amberson Avenue: A Turn of the Century Memoir